


God is a Woman

by flicked_switch



Series: The Gifts That Keep Giving [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Post-Episode: s07e17 All Things, Romance, Smut, X-Files Valentine Fanfic Exchange (2019)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-10-29 22:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17816564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flicked_switch/pseuds/flicked_switch
Summary: Mulder takes Scully away for the weekend with an impending blizzard on the horizon. What secrets will be unveiled as the snow falls and weekend draws on? Will the walls they've built unequivocally fall? Or will new ones be built?Set post All Things and pre Requiem.





	1. Preparation & Arrival

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LizzieBee828](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzieBee828/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story was written for the X-Files Valentine Fanfic Exchange (2019) created and orchestrated by OnlyTheInevitable\\\ gaycrouton.
> 
> Valentine to: LizzieBee828
> 
> Prompt: "I love tropes - undercover, shared bed, stuck/snowed in, formal events."

PREPARATION

—

Friday

5:54 P.M.

—

 

Scully regards her drawer of unmentionables with hesitance. Fresh out of the shower, she contemplates her choices, biting down on her lip as she scans over the various sets in front of her, most of which are fairly basic. Recently, however, she has expanded her collection to include a few that are a bit more risqué. Her eyes settle on a red-laced shelf bra and matching thong set that she purchased several weeks prior. The purchase was brazen and impulsive. She's never worn anything like this for anyone, but she wants to for him.

Releasing her bottom lip, she lifts the matching set from the drawer, slipping on the thong and clasping the bra just below the swell of her breasts and twisting it around as she moves to stand in front of the mirror. She adjusts the straps and turns side to side to assess and adjust. The set fits her like a glove and leaves little to the imagination. With the straps shortened, the bra accentuates her cleavage perfectly, giving it cascading and spilling out effect that she knows will drive Mulder absolutely insane. Unable to hold back the smirk that tugs at her lips, she runs her fingers along the lace and sighs as she imagines Mulder doing the same.

The physical aspect of their relationship is still new enough that, at times, it's awkward to navigate. Having now tasted the forbidden fruit, the challenge to remain professional and keep their developing relationship from becoming public knowledge has become increasingly more difficult. She finds herself laughing, smiling, and entertaining his nonsense more often than not. She no longer discourages his leering gaze or flirtatious banter. If anything, she encourages it. Sex with Mulder has made her wanton. His touch has emboldened her and given her the confidence to leave buttons undone and wear lace.

Being with him has been unlike anything Scully has ever experienced before, but she has no regrets. Their transition from being platonic co-workers to lovers has not come without a few hiccups, but even in the midst of all the red tape, they have still managed to find a rhythm. Some nights they go out to dinner, other nights they order takeout, rotating between their apartments and conjoined hotel suites. Anyone else would refer to what they are doing as dating, but neither of them has labeled it as such.

The lack of definition has been liberating and less awkward than what she had initially thought it would be. She had expected him to press for something more defining, but he hasn't. Which is yet another thing that is different. Though she wouldn't call her résumé of lovers extensive, the others before him had longed for definition and significance, and their advances had been all-consuming and entrapping. What she has now with Mulder, in contrast, is something entirely different. So different, in fact, that it defies definition.

The journey they are embarking on is much more vast and complex than a rudimentary pairing. It always has been, which is precisely why his request for her to clear her weekend for just the two of them has left her on edge. It's undoubtedly a step towards something  _more_ , and Scully is not sure that she is ready for whatever  _more_  entails. She fears that definition will only serve to complicate their narrative, and she's quite fond of the narrative as it is written.

The irony of her hesitance to dive into the unknown while standing in front of a mirror wearing lingerie that she bought specifically for him doesn't escape her.

Sighing, she makes a decision. Selecting a tank top and casual sweater from her closet, she returns to her chest of drawers and pulls out a pair of leggings. Still hot from showering and blow drying her hair, she slips on the leggings and tank top over her ensemble but leaves the sweater at the foot of her bed as she continues to pack.

She had pressed Mulder for details throughout the week trying to get an idea of what he had planned for their weekend get-away, but Mulder had remained steadfast in his silence, answering her questions with a soft smile and nothing more. Aside from being reassured that the trip would not be work-related, Mulder has given her little to go on aside from the fact that she should pack warm and be prepared to be gone all weekend.

Had anyone else have made this proposal, Scully would have balked. The national weather service is calling for record-breaking snowfall. The first front is due to move through this evening, with several additional waves following in its wake. When she had originally brought this to his attention, he had not appeared to be bothered, which had only served to increase both her anxiety and her curiosity.

Mulder had jokingly fielded her questions the first few days until he realized that his secret plans were actually giving her a great deal of anxiety. Only then had he given her questions pause. But even then, he had stopped himself short of answering, asking instead if she trusted him. The flash of hurt that crossed his features as he asked had silenced any further objections she may have had to his pact of secrecy.

In every other relationship Scully had been in, the level of trust between her and the other had always been rudimentary. She had always gone to great lengths to make sure that there were backdoors and fail-safes in place, ensuring a route of escape when things inevitably went to a place that she couldn't allow herself to go. If there was anything that Scully excelled at, it was compartmentalization. Men had been allowed to touch and taste her but never to truly know her. Daniel had been the closest she had ever come to letting someone in, and even then, something deep inside of her had screamed when he had pressed for more, leading her to clam up and flee.

Mulder had been different from the others in every respect, and as much as that excited her, it also terrified her. It terrified her because she did trust him. She trusted him implicitly. Which is why she now finds herself packing a suitcase for an unspecified destination on the brink of the snowstorm of the century.

A light knock on the door followed by the sound of a turning key announces his arrival. While she may be hesitant to forge too deeply into definition, she does have to admit that she is silently looking forward to the day when he no longer feels the need to knock.

"I'm in the bedroom," she calls out to him as she hears the front door open.

He doesn't respond, but she is able to follow his movement by sound. Shedding his coat and removing his shoes, he drops his keys in the ceramic bowl on the table behind her couch as he makes his way to the back to join her in her bedroom. As he draws closer, his steps fall silent.

"You're staring," she says after a few moments of silence, turning to find him leaning up against the doorframe of her bedroom.

"You're not dressed," Mulder replies evenly, his eyes betraying his attempt to appear passive.

Still clad in only a tank top and leggings, Scully is unable to suppress the blush that colors her cheeks as he runs his eyes up and down her body.

"You've seen me in less," she replies coyly, a smirk playing on her lips as she reaches for her sweater, pulling it over her head in an attempt to cover herself before he draws close enough to note laced-covered straps of her bra.

"All packed up?" he asks, clearing his throat and changing the subject.

It's clear from his expression that he is a man on a mission and not one that allows for the delay of a bedroom tryst.

"Almost. I need to grab a few more things out of the bathroom, and then I'll be ready."

Grabbing her contact case, toothbrush, toothpaste, and hair dryer, she returns to her bedroom to find him sitting on the edge of her bed in the beginning stages of pilfering through what she has packed for the weekend.

Laying the items down on the bed, she frees her hands to swat his as she scolds him.

"If I'm going to places unknown with an impending blizzard on the horizon, you could stand for some mystery too."

"Fair enough," he says, laughing and raising his hands in surrender.

Placing anything that could possibly leak onto her clothes into a Ziploc bag, she finishes packing and takes one last look around before closing her suitcase and zipping it.

"Ready?" he asks.

"I think so."

Lowering her suitcase to the floor and turning it right side up, she reaches for the handle but is stopped short when his hand comes to rest over hers.

"Get your coat," he says softly. "I'll get this."

His words come out soft, but there is an authoritative edge to them that gives her pause. Scully has always been fiercely independent when it comes to her care. In her previous relationships she had always resisted being coddled or indulged, but looking into his eyes now there is no way she will deny him. With Mulder, it's never been a move of power; it has always been about reverence.

Removing her hand, she gives him a soft smile and turns to make her way into the living room with him following close behind her. They don their coats, hats, and gloves in silence, neither of them speaking until they hit the cold air outside.

"Goddamn, it's cold," Mulder grumbles as they make their way down the stairs and out onto the street.

"Mulder where is your—," she starts to ask.

But before she can get the rest of the question out, she hears the locks click on the SUV beside them. Raising the back hatch, he loads her suitcase into the back with a knowing smirk before coming back around to open the passenger door for her.

"Taking off to places unknown in a rear-wheel-drive sedan with an impending blizzard on the horizon isn't my idea of a good time, so I made few phone calls," he says.

The green Toyota 4runner is much roomier than either of their cars and immediately eases some of her anxiety over the weather.

"This is nice, Mulder," she says as he settles into the driver's seat. "Rental?"

"Yep."

Silence fills the car momentarily as he pulls away from the curb and begins to navigate his way out of her neighborhood.

"So … now that we are officially on our way, can I have a clue as to how long we are going to be in the car."

"Long enough that we will need to stop for dinner, but not long enough to miss the ten o'clock news or get caught in the impending blizzard."

"Well, that's certainly encouraging, but it's also not helpful," she says, laughing and rolling her eyes.

The few guesses she did have as to where they might be going became null and void as soon as he got on I-95 heading South.

"Mulder, are you seriously not going to tell me anything about where we are going or what we are doing until we get there?"

"Nope."

If his giddy excitement weren't so endearing, it would be hopelessly annoying. Scully hates surprises. He knows that but is making her wait anyways.  _Fucker._

She hopes for both of their sakes that the drive isn't over four hours. If so, they will undoubtedly be flirting with the wrath of mother nature.

 

 

ARRIVAL

—

Friday

9:18 P.M.

—

 

Mulder relents only when the snowfall beings to pick up, and her anxiety starts to climb.

"We're close, Scully. Close enough that we're not going to be stranded."

"Good, because it's really coming down hard."

She's now glad that they didn't linger at the diner they stopped at for dinner longer than what they did.

"Since we're so close …"

Chuckling, he reaches across the center console and takes her hand in his.

"I suppose I've kept you in the dark long enough," he says, looking away from the road long enough to meet her eyes briefly.

"After my parents' deaths, I had some real estate to contend with. I sold a good portion of it, but there were a few pieces that I decided to keep. The house in Quonochontaug is currently being leased as a timeshare and is usually booked solid, but the one I'm taking you to now has largely just sat. It's a cabin off of York River."

She had known about the property in Quonochontaug but is surprised by the cabin. He has never mentioned the property to her before.

"York River?"

"My father bought it shortly after he and my mother divorced. He kept it off the books and used it to get away from the rest of the world. It's fairly isolated, and the cell service is terrible, which is part of the reason I think he liked it so much. He was never bothered out here."

"So … let me get this straight. You're taking me to a cabin in the middle of nowhere that has no cell service on a weekend where there is supposed to be record-breaking snowfall?"

"Relax, Scully, I looked long and hard for Big Foot the last time I was up here. No trace. The Abominable Snowman also called and left a message with my answering service to inform me that he was taking the weekend off."

"You think you're funny."

"No. I know I'm funny," he says playfully. "And no cell service has its perks, Scully. You're the one who's always saying that we need to get out of the damn car."

"And yet, here we are … still in a car."

"Nope, we're about to get out … our destination coming up on the right," he says, turning off of the highway and onto what she assumes is a gravel or dirt road. With the snow currently covering the ground, it's difficult to tell.

"You weren't kidding, this really is out in the middle of nowhere," she says as the narrow road continues deeper into the woods.

"Yet, here we are, as promised," he says as the glow of the headlights settle on a small cabin up ahead.

"Unlike the other properties that were in his holdings, this one is pretty unremarkable, but I think that's part of the reason why he loved it so much. It grounded him."

He's not wrong. As soon as he had tied the property to his family, she had expected something more substantial and extravagant, but as they draw closer, she has to agree. It is quite unremarkable. It's rustic, but not in a way that holds character or charisma. It's also tiny. So tiny that she has to wonder if …

"And before you panic, yes, there is indoor plumbing and electricity. I do, at least on some level, value my life."

To this, she can't help but snort.

"Well," he says as he parks the 4runner directly in front of the cabin. "Shall we head inside and see if the book matches the cover?"

"We've come all this way … may as well take a look," she says, making no attempt to hide her smile.

There's no light source anywhere around, so the area that surrounds them is pitch black except for what is being illuminated by the headlights. It's snowing pretty heavily at this point, so neither of them wastes any time getting out of the vehicle. While Mulder busies himself with their bags, Scully studies the front of the cabin more closely, taking note of the stacks of freshly cut wood that line the back wall of the screened-in porch. She's about to ask him if he leases this property as well, but stops short of asking when the truth comes to her.

She had been worried and slightly irritated last weekend when he had fallen off of the face of the earth for nearly an entire day. When he had finally called her back, she had half expected to find him clear across the country, having ditched her for a case, but he had insisted that he had been out with guys and had left his cell phone back at his apartment by mistake. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she checks her bars of service and smirks.

Mulder hadn't been with the guys. He had come here to prepare the cabin for their weekend together.

"See something you like?" he asks, coming to stand beside her with their bags in hand.

"You were here last weekend weren't you?"

"I may or may not have cleared out a few cobwebs and checked for Big Foot impressions prior to our arrival."

"Hmmm … Looks like you did a bit more than that," she says, nodding her head towards the chopped wood on the porch.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps the Abominable Snowman is a liar and left the wood butter us both up so that he can have his way with us once the snow gets a little deeper."

Rolling her eyes, she can help but smile at his humor.

"Which key?" she asks.

"The one fresh off the press. The old locks were ancient pains in the ass and required numerous jiggles, lifts, and kicks, so when I came last weekend, I replaced them."

Easily able to identify the key he's talking about, she opens the door and reaches around blindly for a light switch. Finding it lower than she expected on the right, she flips it on and is pleasantly surprised by what she sees.

The inside of the cabin is certainly more remarkable than the outside. The large, stone-built fireplace takes up the majority of the wall to her left, but the opposing wall is furnished with a dark, plush leather couch, side tables, and a floor lamp. The large, red-patterned Navajo rug and matching blankets draped over the back of the couch give the inside of the cabin a much cozier and homey feel than the exterior alludes. It's also spotless. The smell of freshly laundered linens and oak infiltrates her senses and brings a smile to her face, but she says nothing.

"I'm going to lock the car up," he says, setting their bags down in the middle room.

Nodding, she makes her way through the main living area and peers into the small bedroom in the back. The bed is neatly made with several additional blankets, and pillowcases folded neatly on top of a small dresser. The bathroom is also small but is equipped with all of the necessities. Turning back around, her eyes come to rest on the rounded edge of the fireplace where she finds more freshly chopped wood stacked neatly along the wall that leads into a small kitchen area.

When Mulder reenters, he says nothing as the locks the door. His soft smile giving rise to hers, as he watches her assess and explore. When he doesn't move and continues to watch, she realizes that he's waiting for something. There's something he's waiting for her find.

Curious, she ventures into the small kitchen and takes a peek into the icebox-styled refrigerator, where she finds enough food to last them several days if not longer. Spotting something larger in the bottom right corner, she opens the door more fully and spots the likely culprit of his fixed observation.

Sitting on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator is a vase full of long-stemmed red roses.

She's not looking at him, but she can feel his eyes on her and sense his presence behind her.

"Well, what do you think, Scully? Suitable accommodations?"

"You've been holding out on me, Mulder," she says softly. "And yes, this is … nice."

It's certainly clear to her now that he has put a great deal of thought into whatever he has planned. Her smile gets wider as she thinks of her own preparation. On the drive down, she had second-guessed herself, but now, as she bends down to rub her thumb and index fingers along the rose petals, she's more sure of herself.

Romance has been a new addition to their relationship. Mulder has been her best friend for years, and now he's her lover. The weeks that followed his return from England have been uncharted territory for both of them, but it hasn't made the journey any less pleasurable.

Wrapping her hands around the glass vase, she carefully removes the roses from the refrigerator and turns to face him.

"They are beautiful, Mulder, but you didn't have to—"

"I wanted to," he says, interrupting her.

Before she can open her mouth to speak, he's talking again.

"Look, I know we haven't really talked about any of this … not really … but I want you to know it means something to me … it's not just a  _thing_  for me, Scully," he says, his eyes breaking away from hers momentarily as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet.

It's clear that he wants to say more, but doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable or pressure her to return the sentiment.

Putting the vase down in the center of the small kitchen table, she takes a step towards him and takes his hand in hers.

"I know that, Mulder."

She knows it's not just sex. It's never been  _just anything_  with them.

Closing the distance between them, she raises up on the tips of her toes and brings her lips to his, drawing him into a deep, sensual kiss as she runs her hands across his chest.

When they come up for air, they are both smiling.

"That was nice," he says, biting the edge of his lower lip and raising his hand to caress her cheek. His thumb slips lightly across the surface of her lips as he looks down into her eyes, causing a chill to run down her spine.

"Cold?" he asks.

"It is a bit drafty in here," she says.

While it is true the cabin could benefit from some heavier insulation, its drafty coolness is not what caused her shiver, and she suspects that he knows as much. But it's still early enough in their physical relationship that she's still not completely comfortable expressing the extent to which his proximity effects her. Him sensing it and her vocalizing it are two entirely different things.

"If you want to take our bags into the bedroom, I'll start a fire."

"Okay."

Leaving him to deal with the fireplace, she picks up their bags and heads into the bedroom. The solid red comforter on the bed brings out the grains in the wood and gives the room a bit of pop that breaks up the monotony of the browns. It also reminds of her what she's wearing underneath her clothes. Smiling to herself, she pulls her pajamas out of her suitcase. She's actually quite comfortable in what she's wearing, but the warm leggings she chose to put on earlier fit her snuggly, making them somewhat of a challenge to remove. And with what she has in mind, she's opting for more easy access.

When she comes back into the living area, Mulder has a roaring fire going and a smug smile on his face.

"Keep it going at that rate, and it will be a little too warm in here."

"That's sort of the idea, Scully."

"Hmmm …"

Snorting back a laugh, he makes his way towards her and wraps his arms around her, kissing her on her forehead.

"I'm going to get a bit more comfortable. There's popcorn kernels and an iron skillet in the cabinet by the refrigerator if you're interested in making campfire popcorn."

"No microwave?" she asks him, separating from him entering the kitchen in search of the skillet and kernels. She had been so focused on investigating what was in the refrigerator earlier that she had paid very little attention to anything else. Aside from a few cabinets, a sink, and the refrigerator, it was bare of amenities. "Or stove?"

She can hear him laughing in the bedroom.

"What fun would that be, Scully?"

"Have you ever made popcorn over an open flame before?" she asks.

"Nope. Only over the stove and in the microwave, but surely between my Oxford education and your M.D. we can figure it out," he says as he comes to stand behind her.

"I sure hope so," she replies as his hands come to rest on her hips. "If not, we will be stuck with the residual smell of our failure for the remainder of the weekend."

Removing one of his hands from her hips, he opens one of the upper cabinets, directing her to the avocado oil and salt.

"No butter?" she asks, a big smile spreading across her face as he returns his hand to its original resting place on her hip.

"There's some fake butter in the refrigerator."

"Fake butter?"

"I have it under good authority that it's the kind that doesn't break any of the rules, which, in turn, classifies it as fake."

"Ah. I see."

Kissing the top of her head, he removes his hands from hips, grabs the iron skillet and kernels, and turns to go into the main room, leaving her to collect the oil, salt, and butter. She follows behind him and settles herself alongside the fire, eyeing him with interest as he reaches to grab what she thought was some type of wired grate covering on the other side of the fireplace. But it's not a grate, it's a foldable cooking surface that is designed to sit over a campfire.

"You've thought of everything, I see."

Smiling, he pours the oil into the skillet and then places it over the fire to heat.

"I tried. I wanted us to be comfortable and to have everything that we needed. I'd say that was a good call based on how things are shaping up outside."

"That bad?" she asks, getting up to peer out the window.

"Yeah, it was really coming down earlier."

"Wow, yeah … it still is," she says, turning on the porch light.

"I think it's supposed to snow all night. We should have left the wipers up, it's not going to be fun to dig those out later."

"Ugh. I forgot. Well, that's a problem for tomorrow … or the next day."

He watches her walk across the room to sit in front of the fire alongside him with a soft smile playing on his lips. The happiness radiating out of him is refreshing and contagious. The uneasiness she felt as she dressed and packed to leave this afternoon is now gone. While she may not know the full extent of what he has planned, she knows that whatever it is, she's going to enjoy it immensely. She's warm and fuzzy all over, and it's not just from the heat of the fire.

They work together popping popcorn over the fire for the next ten to fifteen minutes. The playfulness between them is palpable as they work the skillet from side to side in an attempt to keep the popping kernels in the skillet. While she had given him hell about not having a lid, she had to admit that their antics to keep all the kernels in the skillet as they popped had turned out to be quite entertaining. Somehow, between the two of them, they had managed to get away with only burning a few pieces.

Now, as they sit snuggled up on the couch and watch the flames dance, they are quiet. She and Mulder had both warmed considerably in front of the fire, causing each of them to shed a layer of clothing to remain comfortable. She had been wearing a tee shirt under her sweatshirt, but he had only been wearing his long-sleeved tee. Snuggling closer to him on the couch she rests her head against his bare chest and contemplates their surroundings as she runs her fingers along his side and down his arm.

"Mulder, why have you keep this place all these years?"

"Well, initially, I kept it because no-one else wanted it," he says chuckling. "It was a bit of a neglected mess in the beginning. My father kept it off the books, so it's not something I found out about immediately following his death. By the time I found out about it, it had been sitting for quite a while, so restoring it back to its former glory took some doing."

"The furniture is relatively new."

"It is. When I came here to take a look at it for myself, I arraigned for some work to be done in hopes that fixing it up would help me move it, but then I ended up falling in love with it for the same reason my father likely did. There's something … I don't know … peaceful about it. It has been my quiet place … my little secret. And now … now it's ours."

Shifting her body to sit up, she searches his eyes.

"Ours?"

"Our secret. Our quiet place."

Looking into his eyes now, she's not quite sure what to say, nor is she sure of what he is trying to say.

"Mulder I —"

"You don't have to say anything, Scully. I just … I wanted to show you that I am capable of getting out of the car."

The reverence and affection he has for her is apparent in his tone and in how looks at her.

He looks at her as if she is the only thing he sees.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she inches closer to him.

"Thank you."

Her words come out whispered and raspy as her lips move to cover his. The kiss is soft and sweet at first but quickly deepens. She can taste the salt and butter from their popcorn as her tongue moves across his. Shifting her weight, she disentangles herself from the blanket covering her feet and moves to straddle his lap, deepening the kiss even more.

Now pressed fully against him, she can feel the heated firmness of his arousal forming at the apex of her thighs, but she doesn't move or grind against him. Instead, she drapes her arms around his neck and runs her fingers through his hair, lightly scraping her nails across his scalp as she waits for him to make the first move.

She doesn't have to wait long.

Coming up for air, he breaks their kiss and lowers his hands to rest on her hips.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Scully?" he whispers.

Tears form in her eyes as she looks deeply into his eyes.

The ones who came before him had made similar proclamations, but none of them, not a single one, had ever looked at her like he does. He's always seen her. She's come to the realization that all the others had ever seen was an opportunity. All she had been to them was an established piece of ass … a box to check in their game of life. None of them had ever truly known her because she hadn't allowed them to.

"You make me feel beautiful."

"Because you are," he says, running his hands up and down her sides as he draws her into another kiss.

The kiss they are sharing now is much more heated than the one before, and this time, Scully doesn't wait. Running her hands down his chest and into his lap, she grasps his bulging erection and begins to stroke him through the fabric of his pajama bottoms.

"I want you to make love to me," she whispers into his ear. "Tonight there is no reason to rush, and I want to go slow."

Swallowing thickly, he nods.

"Okay," he says, lifting her chin and lowering his lips to hers once again.

When his hands make their way underneath her tee shirt and raise to brush over her lace-covered breasts, her breath catches with excitement. She can tell by the way his fingers have stilled over the lace that he's no longer naive to her preparation.

"Scully," he says quietly, running his fingers over the cups of her bra as if he's reading braille. "What are you wearing?"

"Only one way to find out."

Spurred by her words and suggestive tone, Mulder retracts his hands from her breasts and lowers them to the hem of her shirt. He usually makes it a point to hold her gaze as he removes her clothing, but this time his eyes are fixed elsewhere.

"Is this new?" he asks, his voice shaky and deep.

Unable to restrict himself to just looking, he raises his hand to lightly brush over the edges of the lace as he looks up into her eyes.

"Yes."

"So … you bought this for me?" he asks in a hushed whisper.

"Yes."

"It's … God, Scully," he says, again dropping his eyes to admire the picture she makes.

Biting her lip, she smirks at his inability to formulate words as his fingers brush light patterns across the tops of her partially exposed nipples.

"You don't believe in God, Mulder," she says in a hushed whisper as she presses herself more fully into him, capturing his hands with hers and steadying them over her breasts to encourage him to deepen the pressure of his touch.

When he raises his eyes to meet hers again, she is caught off guard by the intensity and sincerity within them.

"Muld—"

"If there is a God, Scully. She's definitely a woman," he says, his tone used and filled with admiration.

Before she can respond, his lips are crashing against hers. Raising his hands to her shoulders, he eases the straps of her bra down, freeing her breasts to press more fully into his chest as he moves his tongue against hers. He swallows her moans and runs his hands down her sides until he reaches the hem of her pajama bottoms. When his hands come into contact more lace and the bare skin of her ass, it's his turn to moan.

"Scully," he says, taking the laced material of the thong between his fingers and popping it against her skin. "Does this … ?"

He's having trouble finding the words, but she knows what he's asking. Rising up to give him better access to both the thong and her breasts, she murmurs into his ear.

"It's a set."

"Show me," he all but whispers.

Nodding, she disentangles her body from his, stands, and slowly shimmies down her pajama bottoms. He's seen it all before, but that doesn't diminish the blush rising in her checks or stop butterflies from forming in her stomach as he runs his eyes up and down her body.

"You know," he says, reaching out to run his fingers across the exposed skin along her hips, "red lace is not conducive to slow, so if that's what you want, you're going to have to drive for a bit. Because there is nothing slow about what is going through my mind right now."

"Well, if we are going to progress … at any rate … you're going to have to shed a few more layers," she says to him playfully, eyeing his covered arousal and socked feet.

"Layer," he says with distinction as he raises to stand before her, pulling down his pajama bottoms and removing his socks in one swift sweep.

Raising her brow, she shifts her gaze down to his prominent erection, not surprised at all by the fact that he had forgone boxers when he changed clothes earlier. She's clearly not the only one who wanted to provide easier access.

"Looks like red might be your new favorite color, Mulder."

He chuckles at her playfulness, but his expression turns serious as he closes the distance between them.

"My affinity for red isn't new," he replies gently, raising his hands to catch the tips of her hair.

Unable to respond with words, Scully slips her fingers under the laced straps of her thong but stills her movement when his hands come to rest over hers. Nodding, she shifts her hips under his touch, lifting one foot and then the other as he removes it and tosses it to the side. When he rises up to stand before her, she takes a moment to appreciate his physique before splaying her hand across his chest and giving him a gentle nudge backward to wordlessly communicate what she wants.

Seated before her now under the glow of the fire, Mulder is a vision. His lean, muscular body has been a central feature of her fantasies for the entirety of the seven years that she has known him but only recently has she had the privilege of indulging. Straddling his lap, she lightly runs her fingertips across his chest before bringing her hands up to caress the sides of his face.

" _Slow_ , Mulder," she whispers.

Nodding, he runs his hands up along her sides until they come to rest underneath the swell of her breasts. His fingers follow along with the lacy material of her bra until he reaches the clasp, where he hesitates only briefly. His desire to access her fully outweighing his appreciation for her newly purchased lingerie.

Now bare to him, she is free to devour, and he wastes no time indulging. Taking her breast in his mouth, he lavishes her, worshiping her body with his hands and mouth.

Within minutes she's moaning and grinding herself against him, wordlessly communicating what she wants and how badly she wants it. But of all the places that he is currently touching, there is still one place that remains untouched. He's doing it on purpose, and it's driving her insane. She requested slow, but Mulder's definition of slow is bordering on torture.

"Please, Mulder," she moans.

Scully is all about foreplay, but there is only so much of his teasing hands and mouth that she can take.

"Please what?"

"Touch me," she says, raising up on her knees to give him better access to the one area she wants him most.

Catching her off guard, he leans forward and cups the cheeks of her ass firmly, supporting her weight as he stands.

"Oh, I intend to do much more than touch you, Scully," he murmurs into her ear as he carries her across the room and lays her down on the plush rug in front of the fire.

A chill spreads through her body as they transition to the floor, causing goosebumps to spread across her skin. The fire has kept the room warm, but Mulder's body is like a furnace. Without his skin against hers, there is a dramatic temperature difference, and her body's reaction to their separation doesn't go unnoticed. For a moment, he stills himself and looms over her body, gazing down at her as he runs his fingers across the goosebumps that have formed across her skin. Their heavy petting session on the couch had gotten the evening off to a considerably good start, but more petting is not what she desires now. Spreading her legs and placing her hand along his neck, she pulls him down to settle more fully on top of her so that she can feel the heat and weight of his body on top of hers.

With his body now flush against hers, she kisses him deeply, moaning in his mouth as he runs his hands along the backs of her thighs, spreads her open more fully, and brushes his arousal against her sex. Craving penetration, she bucks up against him to encourage his body to mate with hers. But when she moves beneath him, he pulls back and breaks their kiss.

" _Slow_ , Scully," he says, smiling against her skin as he begins to kiss and nibble on her neck.

She starts to comment but is stopped short when one of his hands lowers to cup her sex. When she tilts her pelvis to give him better access, he adjusts his weight on top of her to give his hand more room to work. Scully is already soaking wet, but as his fingers dip into her and his thumb brushes over her clit, she feels a new wave of arousal forming.

"Jesus, Scully," he says as he slips two fingers inside of her.

Gasping loudly at his welcomed intrusion, Scully begins to rotate her hips more forcibly against his hand to aid in creating the friction she desires. With his fingers deep inside of her and his mouth alternating between her breasts, he builds her pleasure until she comes apart beneath him, only stopping his ministrations when she becomes breathless and squeezes her hand over his. Lowering his hands to caress the insides of her thighs, he gives her breasts one last lingering kiss before shifting his body down to place kisses across her stomach. His touch is light at first, but as his mouth gets closer to his destination, his touch firms.

The first time he had done this for her had been transcending. To say that it had been the most sexually satisfying experience of her life would be a vast understatement, and it has only gotten better since then.

Scully had anticipated him giving her a bit more time to recover, so when his hands rise to hold down her pelvis, and his tongue comes into contact with her clit she screams with pleasure, sucking in air and grabbing locks of his hair.

" _Fuuuuck_ , Mulder!"

Running his tongue up and down her slit, he encourages her to put her legs over his shoulders and open herself up to him more fully, and she does so without hesitancy. She knows all too well what that beautiful mouth of his is capable of.  _Fuck_ , this man is talented.

The next few minutes pass in a blur. At one point his fingers penetrate her again, but in the heat of the moment, she was too crazed with want to recall the finer details or the words that spilled out of her mouth as she came two more times. He had given her such little time in between them that she is left gasping for air. Her intense pleasure quickly transitioning into pain.

"Mulder," she moans, desperately pulling at his hair and shifting her sex away from his hungry mouth. "It's too much … Jesus … just … just give me a minute."

Smiling at her disheveled form, Mulder places soft kisses across her abdomen as he rises up to look into her eyes.

"Do you have any idea how fucking hot that is to watch, Scully?"

The question is rhetorical because he doesn't wait for a response.

"I'm about to explode," he says, grabbing his aching need and rubbing it across her sex so that she can feel exactly what his exploration of her body has done to him.

Settling himself on top of her once again, he aligns himself with her opening and rubs himself along her slit to coat his arousal. Snapping out of her daze of ecstasy, Scully tilts her pelvis and draws her knees up along his sides, wrapping her legs around him and spurring his ass with her heels.

When he sinks into her fully, they both to gasp. No matter how well he prepares her, he's still a tight fit. She's tiny, and he's anything but. How she had managed to get this far into her adulthood without experiencing this level of ecstasy is beyond her, but perhaps it had been for the best. Had she have met Mulder in medical school, she likely would have flunked out.

He starts off slow, lazily and purposely sinking into her and rotating his hips in a way that ensures that she will feel every inch he has to offer her. The lewd sounds of their sexes as they mesh together fill the air mixing with the crackle of the fire and their moans of pleasure.

"God, Mulder," she moans. "You feel so good. Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

As he begins to pick up the pace, she can feel his balls rise, and his body tighten.

"Jesus," he proclaims. "I hope you're close because I'm about to explode. You feel so good, Scully … so fucking good … I can't …"

"Wait," she pants. "I'm—"

Words and breath escape her when he adjusts his pelvis so that his pubic bone brushes across her clit with every stroke.

" _Oh, fuuuuck_ ," she moans.

His movements are frenzied and less controlled as he gains momentum, but even in his race to the finish, he still manages to hit her in all the right places. Placing his hands on the backs of her thighs he lifts her legs higher, deepening his penetration to the point that she can feel him pushing against her cervix. The sensation of it is all-consuming and overwhelms her senses to the point where she loses all sense of time and space as her body surrenders to ecstasy.

"Oh, God," she hears him gasp as he continues to pump furiously into her. "You're so fucking tight …  _ohhhh fuuuuck_."

And with one last pump, he is coming on the coattails of her own orgasm. The sensation of her milking every drop of his release intensifies the experience for both them, leaving them both covered with sweat and gasping for air. Aware of his size and not wanting to make her uncomfortable, he starts to roll off of her, but she secures her legs around him, halting his movement. His body is heavy on top of hers, but she doesn't care.

"No, stay … I want to feel you. All of you."

She's not sure what all she said in the heat of their passion, but she knows she must have screamed because there is a scratchiness and raspiness to her voice that wasn't there before.

The fire has now burned down to embers, giving the room a candle-like glow that only serves the increase the poetry of the moment as she runs her fingers through his damp hair. The firmness of his body pressed against hers and the feel of the dick softening inside of her is profoundly intimate and exactly what she wanted.

Tilting her head, she encourages him to raise up and look into her eyes. Without uttering a word she kisses him softly, shifting her position under him in a way that signals to him that she is now ready to roll. Lifting himself gently, they both watch as he slips from within her. He's flaccid, but that doesn't make the view any less erotic. Once he's on his back, she raises slightly to reposition her body alongside his, placing her head on his chest and entangling her legs with his. Suddenly, she's overwhelmed and emboldened with the need to tell him what this means to her and how happy he makes her but stops short of formulating the words when his breath evens into a soft snore.

As she closes her eyes to join him, three very dangerous words drift through her mind.

 

 

GOOD MORNING

—

Saturday

8:33 A.M.

—

 

Scully wakes up in unfamiliar surroundings. She doesn't remember falling asleep or being put to bed, and for a moment, she's confused as to why it's so bright. But as she looks around the room and orients herself, she remembers their passionate night in front of the fire and smiles. The drapes that line the windows are functional, but they are no match for blinding white light of the sun as it bounces off of the snow that is currently blanketing the ground around the cabin. Sighing, she shifts her weight to rest more fully against the man spooned behind her. At some point in the night, he had moved them to the warmth and comfort of the bed without stirring her in the process.

As comfortable as she is in his arms, she needs to use the bathroom. Easing herself gently out of his arms, she slips out of bed and tiptoes across the hardwood floor into the bathroom. The embers of the fire from the night before are long gone, leaving the cabin with a drafty coolness that makes her shiver all over. The toilet seat is freezing, which only serves to further encourage to her quickly void, flush, and wash her hands.

Not bothering to dry them thoroughly, she makes her way back Mulder and warmth of the bed they have shared. Her diving entrance is much less graceful and stealth than her exit, causing Mulder to stir.

His eyes shoot open when the coolness of her flesh presses up against him.

"Jesus, Scully, you're freezing."

"Warm me up then," she says, rubbing her cold feet along his calves and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I forgot to check to see what the heat was set on before I came to bed. I got a little distracted," he says, smiling and pulling the covers more tightly around them as he rubs his hands up and down her bare back.

"Hmmm … I don't recall coming to bed at all."

"I didn't think you'd appreciate waking up on the cold floor by yourself."

"Likely not," she says with a chuckle.

Pulling her body more flush against his, she feels a familiar bulge against her thigh. Smiling, she turns her head to place light kisses across his chest as she runs her hands down his sides.

"Looks like somebody else is awake and ready to go this morning."

"Ah … yeah … he's … he's quite fond of the VERY naked red-head rubbing up against him."

"Is he now?" she asks playfully.

Wanting to pay him back for his more than enthusiastic exploration of her anatomy the night before, she drops her hand down to stroke his growing arousal, placing kisses across his chest and readjusting her position on top of him to slide down further.

"Ugh … Scully."

"Hmmm…" she murmurs, ghosting her lips over his abdomen as she continues her descent.

"I haven't … ummm … I haven't showered since yesterday do you want to …"

"Later."

By the time her mouth reaches him, he's at full attention. Looking up into his eyes, she smiles, positioning herself and taking him into her mouth without preamble.

" _OH. FUCK._ "

In the past, going down on a man had always been power play … a chore to be done in lieu of sex. It's not something she had ever gained any sexual satisfaction from herself. At least not until she had done it to Mulder. Now, as she swirls her tongue around his tip, strokes him, and massages his balls, she can feel herself becoming more and more aroused. Spurred on by his guttural groans, she takes him deeper, enjoying the sensation of his hands gliding through her hair as she continues to pleasure him.

When she feels his balls coil up and his entire body becomes rigid, she eases up, removing her mouth and looking up at him with lustful eyes that relay her intention. She's not ready for the show to be over. She's just getting started.

She can tell that he wants to take her. He wants to grab her waist, flip her over like a rag doll, and have his way with her, but he does none of those things. Instead, he waits and watches, entranced by the authority in her movements as she straddles him, poises him at her entrance, and sinks down on him.

" _Fuuuuck, Scully_ ," he all but shouts, tightening his grip on her hips in an attempt to still her before he loses all semblance of control.

The feral look in his eyes and recognition of how wet she has become from pleasuring him is almost too much for her. Taking a deep, measured breath, she closes her eyes and gives them each a moment to settle before she begins to slowly rotate her hips. She can tell by the way he's touching her that it's taking every ounce of control he has to not drive into her. It's killing her too, but she wants to remain draped over his erect, naked form forever.

This morning she woke up wanton and without fear. For the first time in her life, she feels ready for whatever  _more_  entails.

She no longer cares what lies ahead so long as he is with her. Though the words have yet to be spoken, she is his, and he is hers. And this weekend, in this unremarkable cabin surrounded by snow, she intends to show him that God is, indeed, a woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I may or may not have listened to Ariana Grande as I was writing this story.
> 
> A special shout-out to OnlyTheInevitable\\\@gaycrouton for setting this up and making this happen!!


	2. Good Morning, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up to a new day in the unremarkable cabin on York River gets a bit steamy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After posting the initial work for the gift exchange, I just couldn't stop thinking about this story. It felt unfinished. I had planned to put it on the back burner and continue it at a later time so that I could finish my other WIP (TPoE) first, but this story just wouldn't stop knocking. 
> 
> I haven't decided how I am going to break this up yet, but there will be more. After all, they do have two more days and seven years of sexual tension to get out of their system. ;)

—

Saturday

11:43 A.M.

—

 

The next time her eyes open, the room feels empty and cold. It doesn't take her long to deduce why when her hand comes into contact with cool sheets in the empty space behind her. Drawing the covers more tightly around herself, Scully scans the brightly lit room for its missing occupant. She's about to call his name when it dawns on her that the water in the bathroom is running. Smiling to herself, she rolls to her side and allows the covers to fall out of her grasp as she sits up and faces the closed bathroom door. The unfinished oak bed frame sits high enough off the ground that her feet dangle as they drop the side, forcing her to scoot a little closer to the edge to make contact with the floor.

Eyeing her suitcase on the opposite side of the room, she contemplates getting dressed and taking better stock of what is in the refrigerator, but the distinct sound of water cascading off of his body and onto the shower floor in the adjacent room quiets her rumbling stomach and gives rise to another form of hunger. As satisfying as the sex had been earlier this morning, it had done little to quell her heightened libido.

Goosebumps form across her skin as her body responds to the cool morning air and the prospect of joining her lover in the shower. Scully had showered prior to Mulder arriving at her apartment the evening before, but after their impassioned night in front of the fire and their morning in bed, she could use another one.

As she moves to stand, she hesitates briefly. She has showered with Mulder before, but neither occasion had been under the guise of passion. The first had been a decontamination shower, and the other had been a rushed and desperate attempt to not be late to a paneled briefing after failing to set their alarms the night before. Neither instance had been conducive to sexual advances, let alone romance.

Making her way across the room and resting her hand on the bathroom door, she's well aware of the fact that if she joins him now, there will be nothing casual or convenient about what follows. Joining him now will be another first. It will be a step towards something she has always avoided in all of her previous relationships. It will be a step towards more.

She enters quietly, closing the door behind her as quickly and as quietly as possible in an attempt to conceal her entry. The combination of steam and the view before her warms her cooled skin. Smirking and biting her bottom lip, she stands alongside the shower and watches her lover's toned, naked form move behind the frosted glass.

This thing between them is still new enough that the sensual thoughts crossing her mind give her pause, slowing her fingers before they can reach for the door.

In so many ways, Mulder is her first. It wasn't until she met Mulder that she truly understood the depth of emotion. What she feels for him, she has never felt before. Not with anyone. She had always balked at colleagues who had thrown away their careers and livelihoods for a good night in the hay. Now, as she stands outside of his shower, she understands why careers have been lost, wars have been fought, and empires have been built. He's the greatest risk she has ever taken.

"Are you going to just to stand out there or are you going to join me?"

Although there's an underlying playfulness to his tone, his question is serious.

Now that she's been caught, there's no turning back.

"Mmm … I came in to check on the status of the hot water. It appears that someone is using quite a bit of it."

She can't see his face through the frosted glass, but she doesn't have to be able to see him to feel the warmth of his smile on the other side. When the glass door pops open, her hesitance vanishes. The shower stall is small enough that he has to sidestep further into the shower to allow her to take a full step inside and close the door behind her.

"What kind of gentlemen would I be if I used it all?" he asks, his eyes meeting hers briefly as she joins him.

"Trust me, you're no gentleman," she says with a snort, as she watches his eyes rake up and down her body.

"I can be, but so far, nothing you've shown me this morning has encouraged my inner gentleman."

"Is that so?"

Brushing the front of her body against his, she encourages a shift in their position so that she can fall under the cascade of water with him.

"I was trying to be quiet. I was going to start breakfast before I woke you," he says seriously, the playfulness in his eyes gone as he reaches to move wet strands of hair out of her face.

The hunger she finds in his eyes weakens her knees. It's a look that has spread her legs and lifted her arms above her head on numerous occasions. Never before has she been so entranced and so willing to be completely and utterly dominated by another human being.

"Hmm … so you were going to use it all?" she asks, inserting humor back into the conversation in an attempt to erase the pictures flowing through her head before she loses all semblance of control.

"I was just finishing up and about to cut off the water when you arrived. Does the water feel cold to you?"

"No."

"Hmm."

Reaching behind him, she grabs the bottle of lavender scented Ivory soap resting on the corner and steps just outside of the spray. With a small smile playing on her lips, she hands him the bottle that is too full to be the one she packed.

"When did you buy this?"

"Last weekend," he says casually, taking her cue and lathering his hands with soap as she turns her back to him.

"Have you been snooping in my shower, Agent Mulder?"

"Recon is often the first step to any formal investigation, Agent Scully."

"And what investigation might that be?"

"Unravelling the mystery of Dana Scully."

Unable to hold back her light snort, she turns her head to look over her shoulder at him as he generously lathers her back with soap.

"I think it's safe to say that mystery there is dwindling, wouldn't you?" she asks him, raising her brow.

"To the contrary, actually," he says, raising his hands to run along her arms and up onto her shoulders where he begins to provide deeper pressure. "I know Scully quite well, but Dana … Dana is still a mystery."

His kneading hands momentarily render her incapable of speech. Tilting her head forward to provide him better access, she moans and arches her body in a way that encourages him to continue.

"If there's something you want to know, you should just ask," she finally manages to say, raising her hands to stabilize herself against the shower wall as he continues to work the kinks out of her shoulders, neck, and upper back.

Removing his hands only long enough to re-lather them with soap, he draws himself closer to nuzzle the side of her face as beings to massage her low back.

"Do you want me to ask you questions?" he asks her quietly.

The question surprises her and gives her pause. Does she want him to ask her questions?

It's in moments like these that she recognizes just how closed off she has become. The one person on the face of this planet that she desires to give herself to freely is hesitant to ask her questions in fear that she will shut him out or be made uncomfortable by his desire to know her on a more intimate and deeply personal level.

"Mulder, you can ask me anything."

_"Anything?"_

"Anything."

Stilling his hands over her hips, he lowers his lips to her neck.

"How long have you had this?" he asks, shifting his right hand to rest over her stomach where it begins to circle her navel and fumble with the piercing she has there.

Of all the more intensely personal questions he could have asked her, he has started with this one, and it makes her smile. Even with permission, he's making it a point to not press her too far or too hard, and she adores him for it.

"I got it my freshman year of college. My father wouldn't let me get one in high school, so it was high on my priority list at the time."

"Such a rebel," he says, chuckling as he reaches for more soap.

This time when he wraps his arms around her, he presses himself into her fully, allowing her to feel the length of his arousal as his hands roam the expanse of her body. His touch is teasing and exploratory but also respectful. Even though he had her just hours ago, he touches her as if he is touching her for the very first time. It's sensually breathtaking, incredibly romantic, and makes her loins swell with want.

Unable to take it any longer, she raises her hands to capture his.

"You missed a few places," she whispers, raising his right hand to cover her right breast and lowering his left hand to cup her pulsing sex.

"Are you asking me to wash you or make you come?"

"I was hoping that maybe you could multi-task."

Pulling her under the cascade of water, he lets the water run over them, rinsing her shoulders and back as he takes her cue, cupping and kneading her right breast more fully as his lips find the side of her neck.

She moans softly in appreciation as his fingers move to run over her sex, opening her to his caress. The lingering soap on his hand in combination with her own arousal allows his fingers to move through smoothly, and she can tell by the way his breath catches as his fingers circle her entrance that he's enamored by how wet she is for him. He doesn't verbalize his desire, but he doesn't have to. She can feel it in his touch. And if his touch weren't enough of an indication, the dick currently pulsing into her low back would have been.

When his thumb begins to circle her clit her knees threaten to buckle, forcing him to lower his other hand from her breast to stabilize her against him.

"See," he whispers playfully into her ear, "I told you that I could be a gentleman."

"I wish you wouldn't be."

Groaning, he adjusts his hand to insert one finger and then two.

"If you don't want a gentleman, then what do you want?"

"I want you to take what's yours," she says, lowering her voice an octave as she looks over her shoulder at him.

The look she gives him is one of permission. There is a time for loving and a time for fucking. And at the moment, she's only interested in the latter. Removing his fingers from within her, he presses her flush against the wall of the shower, his hot breath rustling the side of her face as he lifts her to accommodate for her their height difference.

"Does Dana enjoy getting fucked against a shower wall?"

"Dana's never been fucked against a shower wall, so she's not sure if she enjoys it or not … but she'd like to find out."

Although they have yet to have any conversations about the ones that have come before them, she has seen the curiosity in his eyes when he drives himself inside of her. From their very first time, he has touched her in a way that has sought out to erase the touches of the others before him. It's as if he sets a bar for each and every encounter. One that seeks to ruin her for anyone else. When he loves her, he possesses her. Which is why, now, as she is pinned against the wall of a shower in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, she has made a confession that she suspects will awaken the primitive beast inside of him that is screaming to come out.

When she feels the hot steel of his arousal at her entrance, she knows she's not wrong. Arching her back and spreading her legs, she places her palms flat against the shower wall to give him the leverage that she suspects he needs to fuck her like he really wants to.

The feel of him behind her, appraising her as the water cascades over them, is incredibly intoxicating, but before she can put much stock into the novelty of their positioning, he thrusts into her in one swift motion, taking her breath away.

She's not sure if it's the angle or the fact that she's given him permission to completely possess her, but he feels harder and larger than he has ever felt before. At first, his penetration is a little painful, but the positioning of their bodies in combination with the cascading water and echoes of his grunts of exertion as he drives into her is so sinfully erotic that she doesn't dare ask him to stop.

Arousal shoots through her like a rocket when his hand wraps around her, and his fingers begin to play with her clit. Her sex swells even more with the knowledge and recognition that even in his drive to entertain his own fantasies, he is still going to see to her pleasure.

"Scully," he groans, "I've never … you feel  _so_  good …  _too_  good …  _Jesus_."

He's pumping into her with vigor, struggling to maintain control as his fingers begin to move more aggressively, encircling her clit and providing just the right amount of pressure to make her entire body clinch as she gasps for air.

" _God_ , Mulder, I'm gonna —  _ohhhhh fuuuuck_."

Within seconds she's coming apart in the most wonderful way. Her earlier discomfort completely forgotten as she goes limp against the wall. She is so lost in a sea of bliss that it takes her moment to realize that he's still inside of her … and he's not flaccid.

"Mulder, you didn't …?" she asks, unable to hide her surprise.

"No," he says, nibbling at her ear as he reaches down between them to remove himself from her depths. "As amazing as that was … I want to see you … I want to kiss you and look into your eyes. Is that okay?"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she relaxes her legs and places her toes back down on the shower floor as their bodies separate. As Mulder's words wash over her, she becomes overwhelmed with emotion. Sensing a change in her demeanor, Molder's hands drop to her hips.

"Scully? Did I hurt you?"

"No … no, you didn't hurt me. You could never ... I just … I wasn't expecting …"

Placing pressure through her right hip, he encourages her to turn and face him. When she does, his hands raise to her cheeks and wipe at her tears.

"Scully, I meant what I said last night … This … It isn't just anything to me. The sex … it's amazing, but it's not the only thing I want."

Before she can formulate a response, he kisses her lightly on the lips and then reaches off to the side, grabbing a bottle of shampoo on a lower shelf that she hadn't noticed before. It too is a perfect match to what's in her suitcase.

"You could have told me that you had the toiletries covered," she says, finding her voice as she watches him pop open the top and lather the shampoo in his hands.

"When I tried to pilfer through your things, I was shooed away."

Raising his hands to her hair, he begins to massage her scalp, filling her hair with suds in a gentle reverence that she has come to expect from him. Mulder can be an ass, but he's also incredibly soft and loving. The care relayed in his touch is hopelessly romantic. Which is why, at this moment, he could have her in any way that he wanted, and she wouldn't object. She trusts him implicitly.

"I thought you were snooping in search of  _other_  things," she says, giving him a look of meaning.

"What  _other_  things?"

"Things like what I was wearing last night."

"Ah. Well, did you pack more of  _those_  things?"

"You'll have to wait and see," she says, raising her hands to place them on his chest as she looks up into his eyes.

Not giving him time to speak, she raises up on her toes and places her lips against his. The kiss is slow and sweet at first but quickly amplifies in intensity as his hands drop to fondle her breasts. Moaning into her mouth, he pulls her body flush against his own, pressing the length of his firm arousal into her toned stomach as a not so subtle reminder of how he wants to finish.

Reaching between them, she grasps him firmly in her hand and begins to stroke him as he shifts her under the water and rinses her hair. She's so engrossed in the task of kissing and stroking him, that it takes her moment to realize how much cooler the water has become. She's not sure how long they've been in here, but it's certainly been long enough to exhaust the hot water reserve.

Mulder appears to have realized it too, taking one of his hands off of her breast long enough to shut off the water as he pushes her firmly against the wall. Bringing his hand back to rest along her hip, he strokes her side and looks down at her dripping wet body with a transparent sense of awe.

"You're beautiful, Scully. Absolutely, beautiful."

She doesn't return the sentiment or thank him with words. Instead, she raises her hands to rest on his shoulders and lifts her right foot off the shower floor, raising her leg to rub her inner thigh on the outside of his left leg signaling to him that she's ready.

Grasping her hips, he lifts her to align their sexes. She tilts her pelvis in anticipation of his penetration, but to her surprise, he doesn't enter her immediately. Rubbing himself against her entrance, he rests his forehead against hers and looks deeply into her eyes as his lips ghost over hers.

" _This_  is what I want."

His lips cover hers, preventing her from commenting as his tongue slips into her mouth. There are many things about the physical aspect of their relationship that Scully adores, but the first to catch her attention had been what a masterful kisser Mulder was. Pressing her more firmly into the wall, he kisses her with an intensity that steals the air from her lungs, pulling back only as he begins to enter her. When they had first embarked on this journey of exploration, his voyeurism had made her self conscious and a bit uncomfortable. As the physical aspect of their relationship has progressed, however, she has come to adore the fact that he likes to watch.

This time, his intrusion into her body is slow and calculated. His eyes remain on hers as he adjusts his hands on her to control his penetration and support her weight. Raising and wrapping her legs more tightly around his waist, she groans as he bottoms out within her. He's so deep and so thick within her that her muscles struggle to accommodate him and grip him adequately enough to provide the friction they are both craving.

Taking a deep breath, she tries desperately to relax as he begins to move within her. The addition of her body weight bearing down on him in this position is new and more aggressive than what she has experienced with him before. Sensing that he's going slow and holding back for her benefit, she bears down on him as hard as she can and begins to rock her pelvis against his to facilitate his thrusts.

"You don't have to go slow or be gentle. I'm not going to break," she murmurs into his ear, tilting her head to nibble at his neck.

As soon as the words leave her mouth, the current of charge that surrounds them ignites.

Shifting his hands to grip the cheeks of her ass, he moves his body against hers, grasping, grinding, and penetrating her with a force that he has never used with her before. She feels him everywhere all at once, and for the first time, she feels him begin to lose all semblance of control. It's all-consuming and far more erotic and sensually satisfying than she could have ever have imagined.

Together, they race towards ecstasy, cursing and moaning each other's names as they move against each other. Her only goal as they reach the summit is to last a few moments longer than he does. Mulder has always been so controlled, always seeing to her pleasure and delaying his own. For once, she wants to see him lose it. She wants to be the one to rip away his exterior locus of control and tickle the beast inside of him.

"Stop waiting," she pants in his ear. "Take me. Take all of me."

" _Fuck_ , Scully, I can't … not when you haven't—"

"This isn't about me. This is about you taking what is yours."

The command she finds in her voice surprises even her. Clamping down on him as hard as she can, she scrapes her nails across his back and then lowers them to caress his low back and cup his balls. When she begins to massage him, he loses it, coming inside of her with copious spurts as he curses, speaks her name, and adjusts his hands to rub her in all the right places. Unable to hold back any longer she tilts her head back to look into his eyes as she joins him in nirvana.

For a moment, neither of them speaks, each of them fighting to catch their breath and reorient themselves to their surroundings. Resting his forehead against hers, he moves his hands to her thighs and eases her legs down as he pulls himself from her depths.

"Good morning," he whispers across her lips, smiling at the look of awe and wonder she knows he must see plastered across her face.

"Good morning," she repeats softly. "Again."

To this, he chuckles, running his hands along her sides as he looks into her eyes. She knows she should say something more, but she's too weightless and overwhelmed by endorphins to come up with anything profound.

"Stay here, I'll get you a towel," he says, tucking a piece of her wild, wet hair behind her ear.

He returns moments later with a large, fluffy, white towel that he wraps around her to keep the chill of the cooling air off of her skin.

"That was … amazing, Scully," he says quietly, raising his hand and sweeping it across her cheek as she arranges the towel to cover herself more fully.

"Yes … yes, it was."

"So … Dana liked the shower wall?"

Given what they were just doing, the blush that rises in her cheeks as he searches her eyes feels silly and juvenile. She knows he sees it when a small smile forms on his lips, and his hand shifts to allow his thumb to slip across the surface of her lips. In the heat of passion, Scully can allow herself to be wanton and commanding, but in the cold light of day, there is still an element of shyness and insecurity that engulfs her. Looking into his eyes now, she can't help but wonder if her goal is also his. When he watches her face as she comes, is he looking to strip her bare? To make her completely lose control? Breaking down her walls until there is nothing left that his eyes cannot see?

"Scully?" he asks, breaking her away from her thoughts.

She's been quiet for too long.

"Dana liked the shower wall," she whispers, putting his mind at ease by raising up on her toes to kiss him lightly on the lips.

"Hmm …"

Running her hands down his bare chest, she gives him one more peck on lips before lowering herself.

"You said something earlier about fixing me breakfast. Is that offer still on the table?"

"Most definitely," he says, kissing the top of her head as he reaches for his own towel. "Get dressed. I'll take care of breakfast."

"Hey, Mulder," she says, calling after him as he makes his exit.

"Yeah," he says, peeking back in the door.

"If there's a bagel in there with light cream cheese, it might be love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to my betas ATTHS_TWICE and admiralty for their suggestions, edits, and commentary on this chapter. You guys are seriously THE BEST. <3


	3. Sustenance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder makes Scully breakfast following their steamy rendezvous in the shower.

—

Saturday

1:02 P.M.

—

She made the joke about the bagel and light cream cheese anticipating that Mulder would prepare something quick and easy for breakfast, but when she enters the kitchen, she finds him in the midst of cutting up various fruits and vegetables. Sensing her presence as soon as she enters, he slows his hands and turns his head just enough to give her a sidewards glance and a brief smile before returning his full attention to the cutting board.

"That was quick," he comments as she comes to stand alongside him.

"I had a rather energizing shower."

"Did you now?" he asks, unable to hold back the goofy, post-coital grin that spreads across his face.

As her eyes come to rest on his handiwork, her curiosity peaks.

"This," she says, nodding towards the neatly separated piles of prepped food, "appears to be quite a step up from cream cheese and bagels."

"Omelettes," he says simply as if it's nothing. "I was hoping you would approve."

She's known this man for seven years, and never, not once, has she seen him work in the kitchen. Her assumption has always been that he held only basic, bachelor-level culinary skills, but as she watches him wield a knife, it becomes quite apparent that his expertise extends far beyond boiling water and microwave operation.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I'm about ready for the eggs and cheese if you would like to pull those out."

For the next few minutes, they work in silence, their movements and minds in sync as she cracks the eggs and he adds the pre-prepped veggies, cheese, and various spices to the mix.

"I'm impressed, Mulder," she says, eyeing the various spices and sauces stocked in the cabinet above. She hadn't noticed them the night before, but that's not surprising given how the evening unfolded.

"You say that only because I was spared the task of cracking all of the eggs," he says with a light chuckle.

Joining in on his soft laughter, she gathers the egg shells and reaches behind them to toss them in the trash. As she makes her way back to the sink, she assesses him carefully. It's like she's seeing him for the first time under a new spectrum of light. Looking at the spread in front of her, there is no denying the fact that he has put a great deal of thought into their off-the-grid weekend. Much more thought than she had previously given him credit for.

"Maybe," she says finally, "but … this … this is really nice. I would have been happy with toast."

Placing the cutting board in the sink in front of her, Mulder closes the short distance between them and kisses her lightly on the forehead. The tenderness in the touch of his hands as they come to rest on her shoulders in combination with the sensation of his lips brushing across her skin puts her entire body on notice. The wave of warmth that washes over her is as shocking as it is sensual. She's had more sex in the past month than she has in the last decade, and it hasn't sated her. It's only served to awaken her. He was inside of her less than an hour ago — twice. But if he were to press her up against the counter and touch her as he had earlier, he'd find her wet and ready to go again.

"Toast doesn't provide much sustenance, Scully."

The playful gleam in his eyes as he runs his hands down her arms and looks into her eyes leaves little to the imagination. He wants her every bit as much as she wants him.

"No … no, it doesn't," she replies, holding his gaze.

Her core immediately clenches with excitement when he lowers his head and brushes his lips over hers in anticipation of him, drawing her closer and deepening the kiss, but he doesn't. Instead, he pulls back, putting a bit of distance between them as he raises his hands to tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ears.

"I'll always keep you guessing," he says quietly, dropping his arms and taking her hands in his.

Scully had said the very same thing to him years earlier, and she can tell by the light flickering in his eyes that he's said it for that very reason.

"You certainly have so far," she says, standing up on her tiptoes to press her lips lightly against his.

"Hungry?"

"Very."

"Shall we, then?" he asks, gesturing towards the mixing bowl and the cookware that lines the countertop.

Having no amenities to speak of had historically been a bickering point for them while on the road, but here, in a rustic little cabin in the middle of nowhere, bickering is the furthest thing from her mind. There is something oddly charming and primal about cooking over an open flame. It takes Scully back to her childhood when her father used to take her and her siblings camping. How her father survived a weekend alone in the woods with four kids is still a mystery to her, but the shrills of laughter that filled the fresh pine-scented air as they played is something she will never forget. It was liberating, carefree, and somewhat feral. Scully misses that Dana. She misses her father, sister, and weekend trips to the forest that were free of mothmen and monsters.

"Hey, where'd you go?" Mulder asks, looking at her thoughtfully as he reaches out to caress her hand.

Not wanting to add weight to the lightness of the morning they have, she sighs, choosing her words carefully as she settles on the floor beside him in front of the fire.

"Cooking like this," she says, tilting her head towards the fire. "It reminds me of camping when I was a child. Dad taught us how to start fires, pitch tents, boil fresh water and cook over an open flame. It was a time to just be. I had forgotten how freeing that was."

Somehow sensing her avoidance of the heavier topics of loss and grief, Mulder wraps his arm around her and draws her closer, playfully murmuring in her ear.

"Scully, if you want to go camping—"

"A little trip to the forest?" she asks, brow raised. "That never ends well. Not with you."

Laughter fills the room as he releases her to attend to the meal now cooking over the fire.

"This trip has been okay so far, don't you think?"

"I do, but we are less than twenty-four hours in, and the day is still young," she retorts unable to hide her smirk.

"That it is."

For the next few moments, no words are spoken as he moves the skillet over the fire, using a spatula to flip and fold the omelet.

"I'd like to do this more," he says quietly.

"I'd like that too."

The soft smiles tugging at the corners of their lips remain in place as he removes the skillet and places it on the edge of the rug in front of them. Handing her a small plate and fork, he lets her take as much as she wants before claiming the rest. The silence they hold as they eat is comfortable, but as she finishes, she can feel his eyes on her.

"You're gazing again," she says, humor clinging to her voice as she puts down her fork and cuts her eyes away from the dancing flames.

"I. DO. NOT. GAZE."

"MmmHmm."

The knowing smile they share is short-lived as they both burst into laughter and stand, each of them gathering cooking utensils, plates, and silverware and taking them into the kitchen to be cleaned and readied for their next meal.

"What did you have in mind for the rest of the day?" she asks, taking the last dish from him, drying it, and placing it in the cabinet above.

"Well, there is a good amount of snow on the ground and a perfectly good sled behind the woodpile on the porch."

"Hmmm … are you trying to entice me to take a nice trip into the forest, Agent Mulder?"

"Would you need enticing, Agent Scully?" he asks, wrapping his arms around her from behind and nuzzling his nose through her hair.

"No, not with you."

The profound effect his body has on hers is something she can no longer hide. He has her. She would follow him anywhere, and he knows it.

"Then I hope you brought thermals and mittens."

She hadn't, but it didn't matter. He had everything she needed hidden away in the chest of drawers in the bedroom, which was another first. The men who preceded him had bought her flowers, food, drinks, and jewelry but never clothing.

The purchase of clothing for someone as petite as she is requires very detailed and intimate knowledge. Even when shopping for herself, she often has to resort to having her clothing altered to fit, but to her surprise, the fit of the clothing he purchased for her is perfect. So perfect, in fact, that had it been anyone else, she would have been alarmed, but with Mulder, all she manages to feel as she dresses is the color rising in her cheeks. His attention to detail is one of the many things that makes him such a phenomenal investigator, and if this weekend has made anything clear, it is that he has opened a file on Dana Scully.

From hair products to clothing sizes, Mulder had yet to miss a trick. The amount of care and thought he has put into their weekend getaway pokes at the brewing emotional current lurking beneath the surface of her poised exterior. What she feels has yet to make its way into written or spoken language, but it floats around them in a way that gives weight and electricity to the air that surrounds them. It's so thick and electrifying that it's almost palpable. She knows he feels it too. She can see it in his eyes as he watches her dress.

By the time they are fully suited for snow and dig the sled out from behind the woodpile, it's nearly 3 P.M., but even with the temperature at its high for the day, it's still well below freezing. Initially, she shivers, but the joy and laughter that floats through the silent expanse of the woods as they sled and frolic in the snow warms her and fills her with a profound sense of joy that she hasn't experienced since her early childhood.

As she is hit with snowballs and tackled to the ground to make snow angels, Scully finds herself overwhelmed by a truth she has fought so hard to repress. One that she can longer fight against or deny. It's an avalanche, and it has engulfed her with a vise grip she never anticipated.

She loves him.

Dana Scully loves Fox Mulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a huge thanks to admiralty and ATTHS_TWICE for their beta work on this chapter. There will be more to come, so stay tuned ;)


End file.
